


Beaten up-Duncan

by FredGeorge123



Series: ASOUE mostly one shots [1]
Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Blood, Gen, Injury, Isadora is sad, Whump, poor duncan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-05-20 12:27:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14894637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FredGeorge123/pseuds/FredGeorge123
Summary: AU where Duncan gets captured around any time after the Vile Village and before the Slippery Slope. It's rushed. Just an excuse to hurt a character.





	Beaten up-Duncan

Duncan remembered his Health class in year eight. One of the classes he had in his last month of school. The teacher was a strict women. Reminded Duncan of Umridge from the AVPS which Isadora had showed him. Isadora called it a musical, literacy materpiece but Duncan didn't get what was so good about it. He felt that it was way too vile with language and dirtiness. Isadora can like it but Duncan just felt awkward. When he had told Isadora that then she just patted his head.

Anyway the woman was talking about how childhood were a beautiful and joyful thing. And that children should be taken care of and treated nicely. And all that stuff. Then she screamed at Quigley for five minutes straight because he was fiddling with his pencil and chair. Quigley had Autism and so he would often stim during class because he got bored easily.

Anyway the point was that, apparently, children should be treated kindly and loved.

That's not how Duncan felt right now.

The second triplet ran a hand through his black hair. He bit his lip and wrapped his arms around himself. He tried to gather himself and took a deep breath. He looked at his foot with a mix of emotions dancing around his head. A chain was tied to a huge metal ball which if Duncan could manage to tug then he'd never even reach the door still.

As if Count Olaf would give up on any fortune. All he needed was one Quagmire. Just one. And it didn't matter which one it was.

And the worse part was that when he got the fortune, he wouldn't kill him.

Duncan stifled a sob. He was going to do worse.

He planned to brainwash him and recruit him. Duncan thought maybe it would be more effective if they were slightly nicer to him. He'd read about Stocklom Sydrome. But he was happier they didn't use that method. He didn't think he'd succumb but he didn't know.

Duncan sighed. Only if Izzie was there. But then again... he would rather not have that. Isadora had suffered so much after being kidnapped from Prepatory Prep and couldn't bare it. So that became his only comfort.

Anyway, it wasn't the biggest loss. Duncan was never as good as his other two siblings. Quigley was braver and smarter. He would have beared this situation. But he was dead...

Isadora was amazing. If it weren't for her, then they'd be still with Count Olaf. Of course, now Duncan was with him. But that was his fault. Issdora and Quigley wouldn't have gotten captured.

They were extraordinary. He was ordinary. Other girls were into boys, fashion, make-up, gossip, social media. Isadora wasn't. She was sassy, creative and a quick thinker and witty. Other boys were into dirty jokes and rudeness. Quigley wasn't. He was resourceful, determined, thoughtful and brave.

Duncan was good for nothing. He wasn't terribly smart or creative or witty or resourceful or brave. He was... normal. He was no help to the Baudelaires so how could he help anyone else? He couldn't even help himself.

"Missing mommy?" the hook-handed man sneered and mocked.

Duncan felt his blood boil. He was scared but also mad. He had hunched his shoulders and was slightly shaking at times but now he sat straight and clenched his fists and teeth. How dare this man be cruel to children? He was horrible. And so Duncan did the or thing he was always afraid to do and never did. Because he was always a little shy. But now he didn't feel shy.

He answered back.

"You still call mums mommy? That's pathetic," Duncan mocked back. He slightly regretted it but it felt good. And he felt surprised at his sudden boldness. Duncan was always more shy and quiet than his siblings who were both potential Gryffindors. Hufflepuff was a great house and Duncan's house but Duncan knew he would be one of the left over ones in Hufflepuff. He was quite clever but not overly all in all like Klaus. Nor was he good in one subject particularly like Violet, Quigley and Isadora. Just journalism. But he could just do summarise and then that's all.

The man's face turned ugly and he searched for a comeback.

"Why you little brat-!"

"I'll try not to mock that comeback since for a small-minded fool like you it's actually clever. I'll pat you on the back," Duncan was having fun, to be honest. Quigley and Isadora would either cheer him or hit him into sense. He was supposed to be the sensible one yet he was succumbing to sarcasm and rudeness. Now who'd take his spot? He ignored the Quigley was dead part because the Daily Punctilio could be wrong (no it wasn't).

The man left huffing and red-faced. Duncan was alone. Again. Alone in a dark room with a locked door with a window made of plastic. In one corner. He hadn't been to the bathroom for 42 hours and he didn't know how much longer he could keep this up. Luckily he had a strong bladder. He had a watch to keep count. The floor was hard and cold.

Duncan wasn't injured badly, just a few bruises (God... when did bruises seem like not much before the fire?) and he was happy Isadora wasn't here with him so he was okay.

But also, he wasn't okay.

He knew his face was smeared with exhaustion. From the bags beneath his eyes and eyebrows are pressed down by a weight that was crushing. It was there. Unmistakable. His cheekbones seem hollow against his skin that has become a little sunken in. His lips are cracked, dry and sore.

Duncan was tired.

He was so very tired in a way that makes him more tired just to think about. Mind, body and soul. Duncan is tired. He has been pushed to limits he didn't know he would ever be or had.

  
Duncan was bored from sitting there and doing nothing and scared about what was going happen to him if he stayed and what could happen to him if he left and  
to Isadora and angry about everything that had happened to him and his sister and the Baudelaires and guilty for being so weak and felt useless and relieved that Isadora wasn't there and anxious and-

"Hookie tells us that our little prisoner doesn't have control on his tiny tongue which is oh-so-easy to just chop off," a woman's voice purred. Duncan cursed under his breath. He didn't like Esmé Squalor even before he found out she was evil. She constantly dismissed the triplets calling them twins and saying mean stuff and making Isadora cry which caused Duncan to cry or making Duncan cru which caused Isadora to cry or making them both cry which caused them to cry more.

The villianess was wearing a short dress made from tiger lilies or so it seemed. She looked laughable and Duncan would have found her a most ridiculous woman if he didn't know better.

"I actually find that admirable..." she purred making Duncan's eyes widen and his jaw dropped.

What. The. Hell.

" W-wha-?!"

"Only if there were more such brave people on our side..."

What. The. Hell.

"You know... You could join us..." Esmé whispered in a comforting tone, maintaining eye contact. She was a good actress. But Duncan knew better. He knew her reality and wasn't going to be fooled.

"I could tell you about your parents. About VFD. The other side wouldn't tell you."

"The other side is good-" Duncan didn't believe that but it was better than this side. He didn't like VFD. But anything to make Esmé get off his case.

Esmé laughed bitterly. "Good?! They didn't tell you anything because they don't want you to know their secrets. They don't want you to see them for what they really are. I'll admit, our side isn't too good but at least we don't hide the fact. The Baudelaires' parents... They have done such wicked stuff. And died because they decided to manipulate..." she trailed off. Duncan waited for her to continue. She didn't. She was looking into the distant with a thoughtful expression. Her eyes weren't in a glare not her mouth in a smirk. She looked... just as if thinking about something.

"Who?!" Duncan asked without thinking and then remembered who he was speaking to. He felt sick. Oh no...

Esmé's head snapped back and she grinned maliciously, her eye half lidded in wicked amusement. "You want to know, right? Unfortunately this information isn't for volunteers."

Duncan was quiet and his knuckles turned white. He stared at the floor below as if if he looked anywhere else he'd burst into flames.

"We can convince your sister too you know... Then you both could live with is happily. You won't have to ever be sad again. Does Hookie ever look sad? Or the white-faced women? Or me? Or Count Olaf?"

It did sound tempting but there is no way he was going to join them. He had a moral compass and wasn't going to set fires and orphan children.

So instead he spat out, "Go to hell."

Esme looked a little angry for a second but then grinned. "Oh well... Suit yourself. Offer still stands though. But until then you better hold your tongue. The bald man can help demonstrate what happens to little boys who have a behaviour problem," she then cackled. She went out and Duncan knew she was going to come back. He dreaded it.

And she did with the bald man.

"Baldie..." she purred, "You know what to do. And please don't make too much of a mess. I'm not cleaning up~"

The man grinned and grabbed Duncan by the collar of his shirt. Duncan cried out in pain but could barely breathe. He felt himself loosing all breath.

Then he slammed him on to the wall. Duncan's world span and he couldn't process Esme's high pitched laughter or the bald man grabbing him and slamming him to the wall again. And again. And again.

He barely registered his skull hurting and his shoulders bruising. His knees then buckled and his fell. The hook-handed man kicked his stomach. Over and over and over. Duncan tasted blood coming to his throat.

"...Grab... Hair... Hands... Blood... Brat..." Duncan couldn't understand the words said by the man. He was too tired and so sore everywhere.

"...Wasn't.... Needed... Practice... Wonderful... Voluteenered... Fiercely... Determined..." he couldn't understand Esme either.

Duncan felt tears come but he didn't let them fall. It was so hard... but he managed. He was proud of himself for it. He wondered what Isadora and Quigley was would hink. If he died tonight, he would fear for Isadora who had lost one brother and would lose another.

He heard footsteps fading and a door slamming. He then let his tears fall but he was too tired to even think. So... so... so... tired... He barely noticed liquid dripping down his face and on to his mouth and down his neck.

He passed out from pain.

 

Duncan had had the worse sleep ever. Well, that was to be expected when you're captured. And then beat up.

But... he couldn't tell from the blurriness... But... He was somewhere way more lighter and brighter than the cell he was being kept in. And there was a hand clutching his. Not an adult hand. A smaller hand. About the same size as his. Now he was confused.

"Huh...?" he said, probably sounding groogy and tired and not dignifying but he was feeling too weak to care.

"Duncan! Duncan!" he heard a voice calling his name. The voice sounded close to tears. Weird... Why would anyone call his name like that? It was the voice of someone young and maybe female? Duncan wasn't sure.

He finally got himself slightly together and looked up despite the pain n his forehead from which he winced and groaned and grunted.

His vision was so blurry but he recognised the face. It took a while but his squinted and saw green eyes and a pale face. A face so much like his. Quigley...? Wait no... Quigley's dead so it must be...

He got up knowing he looked panicked and weak and beat up. He felt as if he had been stabbed in the heart. His only comfort. No, not her...

"Izzie..." it was difficult to speak. "Not... Safe... Get... Out..." He couldn't even shout properly. But he hoped some of the panicked at been evident.

"It's okay Duncan. You're not there anymore."

His vision and hearing steadied slightly and he saw that he was back in the hot air mobile home. He felt numb and reached for his forehead and found a cloth wrapped around. He winced.

His eyes were barely open, one swollen with bruising. He had a large gash running from his forehead, through his left eyebrow, down his cheek, luckily not through his eye. It seemed to have been stitched. He had a split lip and he felt his ribs and back ache terribly. His head also ached.

"Isadora... How did... You...?" Duncan managed to get out. He was still way out of it.

Isadora stroked his hand. She looked at him with dark green eyes. Dek green eyes which were darker then even when they both had been captured and kept prisoner. She gave him a smile, a fake, fake, fake smile but the kindness and concern in her eyes were real.

"Go to sleep Duncan. You must be tired," she said and then paused, "First, I'll get you something to ear. Can you?"

Duncan thought about it. He was hungry but he didn't want to eat. But he didn't want to work Isadora. So he nodded and Isadora gave him a small smile. She got up but Duncan used all his strength o hold on to her hand.

"Stay?" Duncan asked weakly. Isadora smiles gently with sad eyes.

"Of course. Hector?" She called but not too loud. Hector came into view.

"I see he's up. How are you feeling, Duncan?" Hector asked smiling but concern was in his eyes. Duncan nodded.

"Been better," he said coarsely and started coughly.

"I think you should rest your voice," Hector said cautiously. Isadora nodded.

"Hector, can you bring something light to eat?" She asked. Hector nodded and went. Soon he came back with a plate of peach sliceas and a glass of water. He gave the glass to Duncan who weakly got up and slowly drank.

Hector put the peaches on a small table and sat down on a chair while he and Isadora waited anxiously.

Duncan coughed some water out and it seeped down his mouth, mixed with a tint of red and some phlegm, Duncan found out when wiped it. He slowly downed the whole glass and took few deep breaths. He then bit onto a slice of peach. He liked peaches usually but despite the sweetness he didn't want to eat it. But it also felt good to his hungry stomach so he forced it down slowly. He didn't force too much because even though he was out of it didn't mean that he didn't know that if he forced food hen it'll come out.

Once he had finished Hector said he'll be in his room if they needed him. Isadora slicked back Duncan's hair gently and told him to get some rest. And Duncan felt himself slowly fall into peceful darkness.  
___________________________________________________________  
Isadora Quagmire was mad. She was furious. She had never felt more furious than now. How dare they? How dare they do this to her baby brother? Wasn't it bad enough she had lost one baby brother that now they were trying to take the other from her. No. She won't let that happen. She looked at Duncan who was snoring slightly. His eyes were closed and his mouth was slightly agape. He had curled slightly and was on his side. He would have looked if it had not been for the bandage around his head, his split lip, his large gash and Hector had stitched up and his purple eye. He had more bruises one his body, paining him like a canvas.

This was her baby brother.

This was her baby brother who had a tiny, shy smile whenever someone out of the family complimented him. This was her baby brother who listen to all her couplets. This was her baby brother who studied and used all sources to get an opinion of what he was studying and proper facts. This was her baby brother who got As in school. This was her baby brother who had been her impluse control. This was her baby brother who had been her emotional support. This was her baby brother who always thought about her well being.

This was her baby brother.

And they hurt him.

They hurt him as of they hadn't hurt him enough.

They had destroyed their home where all their belongings and their works which they had worked hard on had burned to non-existence. They had taken away their parents whom they loved wen if they were more not there than there. They had taken away their brother which made it feel as if a part of them was taken. They had hurt the bestest friends they ever had excluding each other and Quigley. They kidnapped the triplets and psychologically hurt them. And they now captured her brother. But not just that. They hurt him and left him bleeding and to die.

Those five days Duncan was unconscious were hell. When she and Hector found out their location from an old friend of Hector's who was named Kit Snicket and helped them save Duncan, and then found Duncan bleeding and almost dead, Isadora nearly passed out. He looked worse than Isadora worried. She thought they wouldn't hurt him physically. She was wrong. All she had left was the question of they broke him or not. But he was strong so she prayed to God that he was okay in that aspect.

They couldn't take him to a hospital due to the fact they could be caught and in trouble. Isadora wanted to fight with that but she knew that it world wasn't fair.

Isadora didn't leave her brother's side, except to go to the bathroom. She didn't sleep for three days until Hector forced her to take a rest. Then she knocked out for thirteen hours and then didn't sleep again. She knew Hector was going to force her to go to sleep so she decided she would. She gently moved Duncan to make room as slide into his bed, putting her legs on his and wrapping her arms around him. She looked at his pale skin and closed eyes and kissed him on the forehead. Slowly she drifted into peaceful darkness herself.


End file.
